The Return
by Loony for Lupin
Summary: After Reichenbach Sherlock makes an unexpected return into John's life. New feelings emerge and gradually they become more than just colleagues. Unfortunately Sherlock was not the only survivor of the "fall" and our protagonist soon has to make the most difficult decision of his life.
1. Prologue

a/n - The dates are not supposed to correspond with the show in any way, they are just as a frame of reference within this fic. Obviously I don't own Sherlock (if I did my writing would be a of a much higher standard and I would have better things to do than sitting here writing this fic - like making JohnLock officially canon)

ANYWAY I DIGRESS - Enjoy, if you do or don't please review. Constructive flaming only please.

**The Choice**

**Prologue **

The Blog of Dr John Watson - 04/03/2013

Sherlock was my best friend and I'll always believe in him.

I'm sorry that's all I've left you with for such a long time. I decided to take a break from blogging after Sherlock's suicide and I felt those simple words were adequate to express my feelings. I've been following my therapist's advice and keeping myself as busy as possible, I've stayed at Baker Street despite planning to move to make sure Mrs Hudson is okay and I've been working as a volunteer in various medical settings for short periods to fill up my days. Distraction is all well and good but I have not quite reached acceptance yet. They say there's five stages of grief. Although I've been through anger and depression I feel stuck in a permanent state of denial, I can't believe that the great Sherlock Holmes would have just left without any plan, I can't believe he would have left at all. I know one thing for certain, that Sherlock was not a fake. Perhaps Moriarty managed to convince the man himself along with the rest of the world, but I guess now he's gone I'll never know.

Thank you to those who have shown concern for me in the comments on this blog, I'm getting there and I know that I'll be just fine.


	2. Chapter 1 - Volver

**Chapter 1 - Volver**

The truth was John wasn't fine. Sherlock's death had hit him hard, harder than any of the tragedies he'd had to endure previously, and he'd seen his fair share of those in Afghanistan. The thick skin he'd developed had really been no protection against the events at St Barts, some days the only thing that had got him out of bed was the thought that Sherlock might still be alive out there somewhere, the one last miracle. Staying in 221B Baker Street had probably not been the wisest move the ex-Army doctor could have made in the months after the event, but he had to make sure that Mrs Hudson was looked after. After all, she had known Sherlock for a lot longer than himself and at times John thought he was silly, caring this much about Sherlock Holmes. For a brief second he wondered how Sherlock would have reacted had it been John that had committed suicide. The thought made him uncomfortable and he quickly pushed it to the back of his mind.

All he knew was that Sherlock wouldn't be plagued by nightmares, wouldn't wake up in a cold sweat and have to cry himself back to sleep and he most certainly wouldn't be confronted with the image of his best friend's body whenever he closed his eyes. Sherlock could seem cold and callous, but at other times he seemed to genuinely care for John. This perhaps was another one of the great mysteries that Sherlock left behind with his death and the one that grated on John the most, although it was said he was the person who knew Sherlock best in the world it did not seem like he knew him very well at all. Sherlock was an enigma, compassionate and protective in some moments but cold and distant in others.

It was a grey, overcast day in April and there a damp haze of light drizzle over the Capital as Watson walked towards the imposing front door of his apartment on Baker Street. He'd been sent out by Mrs Hudson to fetch a pint of milk which he secured with his mouth as he fumbled for his key. Opening the lock he lightly pushed the door and crossed the threshold, making his way up the stairs and resting the purchase on the counter.

Then for a brief second he forgot. Occasionally he forgot Sherlock wouldn't be waiting for him and called hello before throwing him a pen or other such sundry item as he had been accustomed to doing almost every time he returned home without Sherlock even registering his absence. Once he even threw Sherlock's phone in the general direction of his usual spot on the sofa and cursed himself as one of the last personal relics of Sherlock's he owned disintegrated into hundreds of pieces on the ground. Picking up a well-chewed biro Watson swore as it left his hand, noticing too late what he had done. Waiting for quiet noise that would once again confirm that yes, his best friend was dead, John turned towards the bathroom. After a few seconds no noise came and a curious Watson turned around towards the seating area. Standing there with the biggest, most frustratingly smug smirk on his face with his cheekbones and turned up "cool looking" collar that so infuriated John was Sherlock Holmes.

Nothing overtly theatrical, no big pronouncement of his best friends return from the dead, just a caught pen and a look from across the room. John stared at Sherlock in silence for what seemed an eternity before cautiously stepping towards him, first pinching himself lightly on the arm then touching Sherlock's shoulder. Another few seconds of tense silence passed before John finally spoke "you bastard" he shouted, accompanying this speech with a hard slap to Sherlock's cheek that reverberated around the room. John stood with his hands tucked in his pockets gently rocking on the balls of his feet "Sorry" he said quietly "I've been wanting to do that for months". The corners of Sherlock's mouth stretched into a smile, despite the large red mark on his cheek, in the same location John had punched him months earlier in a misguided attempt to fool Irene Adler. The pair smiled at each other and within seconds were on the verge of hysterical laughter.

"Nice to have you back Sherlock" said Watson, the simple phrase masking the complexity and bombardment of thoughts in his head. Why did he jump? How did he survive? Why had he stayed hidden for such a long time? What about Moriarty?

"Dinner, Watson?" asked Sherlock who gestured towards the door, indicating the question was purely rhetorical

"I don't suppose there's any point in answering that, is there Sherlock?

A/N - Hello there, yes Sherlock's back...I'm really concerning myself with trying to keep my writing at a high quality and the characterisation spot on, so review letting me know I'm doing well or with advice on how to improve would be great :) ~LoonyForLupin


	3. Chapter 2 - Reconciliation

a/n - Hey Courtney here.

I just wanted to thank the quite a few of you that are reading this. It would be really very helpful if you could review or share the link to this fic if you like it.

I have a feeling this is going to be the most controversial chapter, essentially my theory as to how Sherlock survived the fall.

Perhaps leave a review with your theory if you disagree?

TTFN ~ LoonyForLupin

**Chapter two - Reconciliation**

Sherlock stopped a cab and directed the driver to take them to Leicester Square, after living with him for so long Watson had grown accustomed to some of Sherlock's more bizarre habits and accepted that sometimes he just needed to silently go along with whatever Sherlock was doing. This was another one of these times, as it always was when they needed a place to eat. His career path had hardly given John expertise in this area, and tonight it was important they went somewhere small and quiet that would allow Sherlock to go unrecognised and unnoticed.

The pair sat in silence during the journey, despite the lack of communication it was not an uncomfortable cab ride. Both knew they had too much to say that was better left until they had some privacy to worry about talking on the journey, there were a lot of things to be said and a lot of air to clear before small talk or chit chat could even be considered. Not that small talk was really Sherlock's forte. Passing well dressed couples and groups of people headed into the city centre for an early night out they neared on their destination. Darkness had began to close in as the cab pulled to a stop.

"Thanks" Watson said, handing over the fare.

Sherlock wandered a few yards and pushed open a door, allowing his companion to enter a small independent restaurant that had a swanky interior and served up traditional British food. Holmes always was good at finding places to eat and dammed if he wasn't right again. They both took their seats and quickly ordered similarly traditional and stodgy fare, perfect for a cold and grey April evening.

"Allow me to explain everything, I believe I owe you that much" said Sherlock quietly

_**Several months earlier**_

Sherlock had known for a long time that he had to die, it was the obvious culmination of the process from public figure to discredited sham that Moriarty had staged for Sherlock. That was the singular advantage he had, he knew what he had to do so he could begin the process of allowing Moriarty to believe he had won without allowing his nemesis to defeat him.

First was the visit to Molly, a simple and unobservant but nice enough girl who worked in the morgue. It would be child's play for Sherlock to exploit her feelings for him (oh and there were _ample_ feelings for him, that much was plain for even the least observant of humankind to see) to stage the paper work and reports necessary to fake his death. Sure enough with a short amount of time and liberal quantities of kind words Sherlock had Molly prepared to do his bidding, to organise the paperwork so there were no official or legal problems in proving his suicide.

Sherlock would now need to have witnesses. In the end the witness was right under Sherlock's nose. An ex-Army surgeon who was Sherlock's colleague, flatmate and best friend? It was perfect really, almost too simple. John would see Sherlock on the roof of St Barts, hear his voice and the words of what he claimed to be his suicide note. He would instruct Watson to tell everyone that knew Sherlock he saw him jump and had confessed to being a fraud, and he had little doubt that Watson was loyal enough carry out this request, and if not at least serve as witness that it was Sherlock who jumped. John would also need to be certain in himself that it was Sherlock laying dead in a pool of his blood on the floor and to add to that certainty Sherlock enlisted a member of his homeless network to knock Watson over to either make him concussed or at least a little disoriented. This would ensure that as he stumbled over to verify the identity of the body his mind would confirm what it already "knew" to be true, that it was Sherlock who had jumped and Sherlock that was lying dead in a pool of his own blood on the pavement.

The only difference was, Sherlock would not be lying in a pool of blood on the ground outside St Barts. Sherlock would be standing on top of the building and jump onto a refuse lorry he had arranged to arrive as he needed it. The idea in practice was simple, Sherlock had thought of it after they discovered how the Hound was created at Baskerville. Sherlock had been drugging Watson's tea and the final and critical dose came in the form of an injection from a member of Sherlock's trusted homeless network. Watson would see what he wanted to see, what he believed to be the truth; That Sherlock had committed suicide and was dead. He would bear witness to the tragedy, Molly would sort the paper work and the genius would be dead.

_Present Day_

John sat open mouthed gazing at Sherlock, staring into his eyes trying to discern whether or not his friend was this time telling the truth. It was probably just a few seconds too long before Watson realised he should probably say something

"Only you could be that clever Sherlock"

almost immediately Watson regretted his words, cursing himself and repeating the line over and over in a mocking tone in his head.

"It was simple, child's play" Sherlock replied

"So what made you decide to reveal yourself?" John asked

"That's a story for a whole other time" came the reply

a/n - Thanks for reading this! I've probably created the most inevitable shit storm ever with this theory, but I think it fits. We see Sherlock's jump from Watson's point of view and it is probable that we missed a key event in figuring out how Sherlock survived it to keep the suspense alive. Interestingly we've recently seen (spoiler alert) famous British illusionist (and personal hero of mine) Derren Brown on Setlock hypnotising Martin/John so perhaps not drugs but hypnosis was the key to Sherlock's survival?

Anyway if you disagree with my theory or just how I wrote something, or want to maybe compliment my work (huh huh huh) please review.

If you like the story, please favourite as it would really help me out and if you want to make sure to not miss a chapter sign up for updates.

Love, ~LoonyForLupin


	4. Chapter 3 - Empty

Chapter 3 - Empty

_**Two weeks ago**_

Sherlock liked to keep a watchful eye on Watson and did so regularly, but today he wanted to see the inside of his old apartment for the first time. He waited for John to leave, of course he had noticed that his companion had become somewhat agoraphobic since "the event", the only time Sherlock saw him was nipping out to buy sundry bits of food shopping. Just as at the time Sherlock had referred to Irene Adler as "the woman" because she was the singular woman of any romantic significance for him, John called what he thought happened at St Barts that day "the event" because it had become the singular most important of his adult life.

At last Sherlock saw John leaving 221B, it had been a few weeks since Sherlock had last laid eyes on his companion but these past few weeks had obviously been hard on John. Sherlock observed many things about his former flatmate in the seconds he got to see him. He was clearly not sleeping, evidenced by the large circles under his eyes. He was always running late in the mornings and no longer took great care of his personal appearance; his hair was flyaway and John had begun missing patches when he shaved, and was now shaving less often. His clothes hanging more loosely than before, he had lost around a stone in the four weeks that had passed since his last sighting of John. He was probably not eating or stress was causing him to lose weight, or perhaps some combination of the two.

Letting himself into the apartment Sherlock observed more evidence of Watson's psychological distress. The armchair he sat in was significantly more worn than before, again proving that John spent large portions of his time inside. Despite the fact John had many more pairs of shoes and jackets and coats in his room that he could have hung or placed by the door he had left space for Sherlock's clothes, he'd also left Sherlock's cup by the kettle and had yet to remove his place setting from the table. The marks in the thin layer of dust proved that many times they had been removed, to be replaced again at a slightly later date; Mrs Hudson was probably insistent it was time to remove the setting and went ahead with her theory before John just replaced the cutlery again. John had clearly not accepted his best friend was gone.

Time was of the essence and although Sherlock dearly wished he had more time to investigate more thoroughly it was just common sense to leave before John returned and caught him snooping around. Sherlock had known his death would hit Watson hard, but he had not expected anything like this. A deep feeling of guilt spread throughout him as he opened the door and slipped away into nothing for a little bit longer.

Chancing one last look at the black door that marked the entrance to his former home Sherlock decided that it was probably time he thought about revealing himself, before he hurt John any more than he already had.

_**Present Day**_

The pair sat in the same restaurant talking and catching up over a warm hearty meal which John attacked as if he hadn't eaten in months, which was actually quite close to the truth. Of course Sherlock had deduced most of what had passed in the months he had not been in contact with John, but felt it was only fair to allow him to talk about how his life had been. It didn't take long for Watson to quickly cover everything of significance that had happened to himself and those who Sherlock knew.

"Molly met a fella and got pregnant" said Watson

"About time too, the biological clock was ticking" replied Sherlock with a wry smile.

Just like that, the conversation drew to a close, and the pair sat in uncomfortable silence for a good few minutes before Sherlock finally opened his mouth as if to speak

"What I did...I'm..er...Sorry, John" began Sherlock "I never meant to cause you any distress"

"Funny thing that, Sherlock. When people care about people and they die on them they get hurt" said Watson, his voice filled with bitterness

"I thought you'd be fine, I misjudged you and I'm sorry" Sherlock said quietly

"Misjudged me how?" Watson asked, genuinely curious

"I misjudged how much...how much my death would hurt you" Sherlock replied

"Would that knowledge have made any difference?" was the retort

"Not in the slightest, I'm sorry for what I did but it doesn't change the fact it was necessary, he would have killed you if I didn't John" Sherlock sounded stung

"Really, would that have made such a grave impact on your life?" John asked, the anger and emotion from the past months suddenly trying to force itself out

"I...er...care about you a lot and I think you're...er...nice and things so yes it would have, plus I didn't really trust you to fake your own death so I had to fake mine" Sherlock replied

The faintest trace of a smile flashed across Watson's face before it vanished into the tapestry of hurt and exhaustion

"You think I'm...nice and things?" John asked in a slightly mocking tone

"You're my only friend and you're important to me" Sherlock said blankly

A waitress with short curly brown hair and large green eyes came and set the bill on the pair's table "Thank you sir, if you and your date would like to pay when you're ready" she said before smiling and moving onto a nearby table, neither one of them bothered to correct people anymore.

"So, why did you come back Sherlock...can I ask now?" John asked

"I had to, eventually...life as a dead person is exceedingly dull" Sherlock replied

Sherlock paid the bill and Watson led his companion outside to find a cab, it wasn't long before they managed to flag one down.

"Where to boys?" asked the driver

"221B, Baker Street" they replied in unison

an/ I hope you liked this chapter, It's hard to keep Sherlock in BBC Character but I like to think I did okay. In that sense you guys are my betas, so any reviews even negative but constructive are always appreciated.

If you liked this story you can either favourite it or share the link, and to make sure you never miss a chapter please subscribe for updates :)


	5. Chapter 4 - Forgiveness

**Chapter Four - Forgiveness **

The cab pulled up outside Baker Street and the pair slid out to the pavement, Watson walked towards the door but stopped when he noticed the light was on.

"Sherlock, did you leave the light on?" he asked

"It wasn't on to start with, the lamp was but I turned it off" replied Sherlock

"Then who-"

"Mrs Hudson"

"What?"

"It's obvious, she must have seen me from her apartment as we left"

"Well, I suppose you'd have had to reveal yourself to her eventually"

"Hmm, Yes" Sherlock moved hesitantly towards the door

"Oh for god sake Sherlock, what are you expecting her to do? Punish you?" said Watson

With that John moved towards the door, his hand now more steady than the last time he had tried. Sherlock followed behind him and they walked up the stairs in silence, both pondering how Mrs Hudson _would _react to the news that Sherlock wasn't dead. Certainly the news of his suicide had hit her hard, she'd taken the tact of not talking about it and trying to move on as quickly as possible, but John knew it had hit her at least as hard as it had him.

John pushed open the door and called out "Mrs Hudson?"

"Yes dear?" said their landlady from the living area

"I...I er have someone to see you" John begun

"I know, where is he then?" she replied

"..erm...Hi Mrs Hudson...so it turns out...I'm not dead after all" said Sherlock, earning him a disapproving scowl from Watson. There was a tense moment of silence before Mrs Hudson leapt to her feet and enveloped Sherlock in a hug, he patted her on the back before conceding defeat and returning the embrace, albeit with a reluctant expression on her face.

"That's all I wanted Sherlock" she said "I'm not going to pry, I'll leave you boys to it but I just wanted to know it was true" and just like that she was gone, leaving Sherlock and Watson with a slightly shocked expression on their faces.

"Does anyone else know?" asked John, wondering how many people he'd have to tell, how many different reactions he would see. He'd of course done the phone calls after Sherlock's death, not that there were many where Sherlock was concerned, but he wasn't sure how to go about the reverse. He wasn't sure what he would say, "Good news, Sherlock isn't dead" didn't seem to cut it somehow.

"Er, Mycroft...he would have found out sooner or later so I decided it was best to inform him before I vanished, he helped me stay under the radar" Sherlock replied

It made sense really, it would have been very easy for someone as high up in the British government as Mycroft Holmes to find out what had really happened, had he wanted to. John suddenly realised, it was probably no accident Mycroft gave personal information about Sherlock to Moriarty, it was probably given on his brothers orders as part of his elaborate plan. Then John realised something else - Sherlock was discredited, Moriarty had him kill himself at the threat of killing people close to him. Although Moriarty was dead there were presumably people loyal to him and Sherlock couldn't just swan back into Scotland Yard and announce his return.

"What...how.." Watson struggled to find the words to ask

"You want to know what I'm going to do about the press?" offered Sherlock

"Um, yeah" replied Watson

"It's okay, I've sorted it all. There won't be any threat on your life because of my return" said Sherlock

Those words hurt Watson "I wouldn't care if there was"

"You wouldn't?" asked Sherlock, who seemed genuinely confused at the prospect

"No" replied Watson, borrowing Sherlock's line from their dinner together "I think you're nice and stuff" he said with a smile "I care about you and I'm glad you're back"

Some emotion passed across Sherlock's face, too fleeting for Watson to be able to really say what it was. It could have been happiness, but it could just have easily have been surprise, gratitude or a multitude in-between.

"Surprised, I was surprised" Sherlock said

"Surprised that I care about you?" replied Watson, it was his turn to be confused this time, he was pretty sure he'd shown Sherlock that he cared about him very obviously on numerous occasions. Without thinking he closed the gap between them and planted a soft kiss on Sherlock's lips. He stepped back, instantly regretting his decision and considering running off and dying in a pit somewhere.

"Do that again" said Sherlock softly

"What?"

"Kiss me"

"What?"

"Didn't you hear, kiss me"

Without thinking Watson replied with a smile "I always hear kiss me when you're speaking, but it's usually subtext" he then kissed Sherlock again, for a little longer this time, his flatmate responding slowly and softly

Then in the few seconds it took for Watson to step away it all became clear to Sherlock. John had given up correcting people that thought they were a couple a while before Sherlock had joined him, he'd also gone on less and less dates as their time together had gone on, for god sake he'd remembered that Irene Adler had texted him 57 times but couldn't even remember that Jeanette didn't own a dog.

"I didn't know you felt that way about me" said Sherlock

"You, of all people, missed _that_?"

"Yeah, I was a bit slow with that one wasn't I?"

"It was so obvious"

"I know that _now_" concluded Sherlock

Not wanting to ask the question, Watson opted to shuffle nervously on the balls of his feet, what seemed to him like centuries passed before Sherlock spoke again.

"You want to know how I feel about you?" he asked

John nodded his head

"When I said caring is not an advantage, I meant it. But that doesn't mean I don't care about you John, you are one of the only people I've found to be worth caring about"

"So..do you want to get coffee sometime?" Watson replied awkwardly, although he was mentally doing back flips and dancing with wild abandon

"Coffee?" asked Sherlock

"Yeah, it's kind of a thing...when two people like each other they get coffee together" replied Watson

"Then I supposed I'd better get coffee with you then, hadn't I?" concluded Sherlock

**A/N - **Thanks again for reading, I wanted to get the JohnLock action moving along. I hope I managed to keep it in character, as always tell me if I didn't and please review/favourite/subscribe if you liked, or review if you think I could improve on something

I got the idea for the Scandal in Belgravia reference from this - post/55067377908/johnlocked ~LoonyForLupin


	6. Chapter 5 - Coffee

**Chapter 5 - Coffee**

A few days had passed and it was the day of "coffee", Sherlock had not left the house since the pair had returned home from dinner and spent most of his days at his laptop or in his bedroom making muffled phone calls. Watson had tried to ask on several occasions but had given up after being ignored time and time again, he supposed Sherlock just needed time to get things organised before he told John what was going on and didn't want to press the issue too much.

Since their kiss little had changed between the two, although outside observers would have probably said they both acted with a spring in their step. John waited for Sherlock by their front door, dressed down in some slacks and a wool jumper. He'd been waiting there for a long while before he finally decided to check where his companion had got to, heading towards Sherlock's bedroom he could hear him muttering to himself. Watson knocked on the door "Go away, be there in a minute" came the reply, Watson sighed and returned to his original position near the door, the extra time didn't help it just made John more nervous.

Sherlock came out of his room dressed in a suit, causing John to smirk at him.

"What did I do wrong?" he asked

"It's only coffee, Sherlock" came the reply

"But you said coffee was "a thing"

"Yes, I did"

"So did you mean a date?"

"I suppose so yes"

"and when you go on a date with somebody you're interested in I was assured you should dress up"

Watson looked taken aback, although Sherlock had agreed to go and get coffee with him it hadn't really dawned on him until now that Sherlock could actually be interested in him romantically. Instead of replying he moved behind Sherlock and removed his blazer, before moving to the front and undoing Sherlock's top button.

"Better, although I still look out of place next to you" said Watson

"Nonsense, you look..er...fine" begun Sherlock

"Fine?"

"I wasn't led to believe there was anything wrong with 'fine'"

"I guess not"

"You look nice...you look like you, and that is who I'm going for coffee with"

Sighing John put back on Sherlock's jacket

"There, now you look like you too"

He looked up at Sherlock and smiled, who knew his companion was that sensitive? They left the apartment together and walked to a small independent coffee shop a few streets over from Baker Street, all the way both men wondered if they should take the others hand, but before either finally got the courage the short walk was over. Watson pushed open the door and walked towards the bar to order while Sherlock found suitable seats. It was not the first time they had got coffee together but today was different, and they'd chosen a new location to fit the new paradigm.

Watson returned with his order a few minutes later and took his seat across the table, the cafe was actually very nice; cosy and intimate with wood panelling and large well worn leather sofas pressed up against the walls, there was a wood burner that was not on despite the frigid cold which suggested it would be a lovely place to come in the winter. It took a few seconds for either one of them to speak

"So...come here often?" begun Watson awkwardly

"No, this is the first time I've been here you know that John" replied Sherlock

"No, Sherlock it was - never mind"

"It was what?"

"Me trying to think of something to say to you"

"You always know what to say to me"

"This is different"

"I don't see how, we've been getting coffee for years"

"Yes, but Sherlock this is different"

"Again, I don't see how. From what I can work out is a romantic relationship we've had most of the key aspects for years, the only things we don't have are telling each other how we feel and the physical side of things"

That last sentence made John choke on his coffee, but he composed himself before Sherlock asked what had bothered him

"Is that what we are then?"

"A romantic relationship?"

"Yes?"

"I suppose so, is that what you want?"

It took only a few seconds for John to reply "Yes, of course...what about you Sherlock?"

"I'm not a fan of labels but I think we're beyond friendship, so yes"

"Okay" replied Watson, the simple word hiding the complexity of what was going on in his mind. Did the Sherlock Holmes who had once noticed his initial attempts at flirting and turned them down claiming to be married to his work just agree to be his...boyfriend?

"I loathe the word boyfriend" Sherlock said at once, as if reading his mind

"How did - never mind - what are we then?" asked Watson

"Partners, companions" offered Sherlock

John took a sip of his coffee "Well all things considered this was a pretty successful first date then" he said with a smile

"I suppose so" said Sherlock, gazing across the table at his partner "You should know John, and you most certainly already do, that I'm not great with expressing emotions. I'm not the touchy feely sort but that doesn't mean I don't care about you"

"Sherlock, I'm an ex-army doctor I'm not going to be throwing pebbles against your window at midnight and professing my love with roses as you stare down from your balcony"

"I should hope not too, you'd wake up Mrs Hudson and I don't know if she could take the news that her suspicions about us were correct"

The serious chat about the state of their relationship out of the way, the pair passed hours enjoying their coffee and most of all each other's company. John had months of lost time with Sherlock to make up for and he was one of the first people who could really hold Sherlock's attention in a very long time. As time wore on their hands drifted closer and closer together across the table before eventually John took Sherlock's in his; at first Sherlock seemed a little surprised but he returned the movement and they sat hand in hand talking until darkness fell outside.

**Later that evening**

They'd spent their evenings as they always did when they didn't have a case or work to do, watching television and generally lazing about Baker Street. They sat on the sofa, legs intertwined and under the blanket to protect from the evening chill. Neither one was really following the action on the television.

"The thing we did..." began Sherlock

"We've done many things" said Watson "want to elaborate"

"Yesterday"

"Kissed Sherlock, we kissed"

"Yeah, that"

"Oh for god sake Sherlock what are you five?"

"Did you enjoy it?"

"Of course I did"

"I did to..want to do it again?"

"At some point most definitely yes"

"At some point?" asked Sherlock, seeming stung

To shut him up Watson shuffled across the sofa and touched his lips to Sherlock's, they began kissing softly and tenderly, taking their time and savouring the way their lips felt against each other. They'd both been waiting for this a long time, and you could see it in the slow and measured way they went about it, like they were worried it would be their last ever chance to kiss each other and they wanted to savour the way it felt. What could have been hours, days or years passed but neither cared, all they knew and cared about in that moment was each other and that they'd finally managed to tell each other how they felt.

**A/N -** I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I appreciate not much happened but I promise something big is coming (dun dun dun)

This chapter is dedicated to the wonderful Emily who I managed to hear shrieking down the phone at the last chapter and Phoebe who is one of my favourite ever people and who no doubt will be dying of JohnLock feels right now (sorry girl)

as ever please read, review, subscribe and favourite 3


	7. Chapter 6 - The Game is On

Chapter 6 - The game is on

John had become very worried about his partner, it still did not seem as though Sherlock had set in motion his plan to reveal himself back to society and clear his name and the former consulting detective continued to spend much of his time locked in his room or on his phone. There was one development in his boyfriend's (In John's mind he called Sherlock his boyfriend weather Sherlock liked it or not) daily routine; he had started going out for long periods of time without telling John where he was going or what he was doing. In their lives before the event they had been very close and not exactly in the habit of keepings things from each other. Days, if not weeks passed in this manner and John tried everything he could to talk to Sherlock about it, but to no avail.

The more he thought the less ideas John had about where Sherlock might be going, he knew Sherlock wasn't working on any secret cases because he was not yet cleared of being a fraud and back in the public eye and in any case he almost always needed John as an assistant. He most certainly knew Sherlock wasn't cheating on him, it had taken years for Sherlock to open up romantically to his blogger so the possibility didn't cross John's mind for more than a second. After crossing into the realm of downright crazy possibilities John decided it was best to try and put the issue to the back of his mind as best he could, another thing that only crossed John's mind for a second. He'd been trying for weeks to get past this but he just couldn't help being concerned about his partner. There was one possibility that John was always on the lookout for, he hadn't seen any warning signs but he wondered if Sherlock had begun using again.

Sherlock was out, again, and John sat in the glow of a lamp with his hands clasped round his phone. He knew who he could call but he was not sure it would get him any nearer to finding out the truth. He clicked through the options on his phone and found the name in his contact lists, keeping his fingers just above the screen for a long time before finally conceding defeat and pressing his finger to the letters. His call screen opened up and the dialling tone rung off as John pressed the phone against his ear.

"Hello John" said Mycroft's voice from the end of the phone

"Mycroft, now's not a bad time is it?" asked John

"As good a time as any"

"Listen...I'm worried about your brother"

"Aren't we all?"

"No, I think he...might be using again"

"Have you seen any signs?"

"No, not as such"

"Then don't concern yourself"

"But-"

"John, don't worry. Trust me"

With that the line went dead. John stared at his phone, something was going on that Sherlock and Mycroft were in on together and he didn't like it one bit. He decided to ask his boyfriend one last time, point blank, to explain what was going on when he finally arrived home. If the reaction was the same as always then John would give Sherlock some space until he sorted out whatever it was that was going on and got back to being Sherlock.

The rest of the afternoon passed slowly as John fidgeted on the sofa and tried to do anything to hold his attention. He surfed the internet, he tried to work on an update to his blog, he tried to read but found himself reading the same line over and over again until he eventually gave up. In the end the ex-army doctor lay with the television on in the background but he wasn't really paying any attention to what was in front of him.

Then at last footsteps came up the stairs and Sherlock announced his arrival

"Hello John"

"Hi"

"Would you like a cuppa?"

"No, Sherlock I wouldn't"

"What's the matter?"

"It's okay you've just got in let's not do this now"

"Do what?"

"You know what the matter is, I'm fed up with you skulking around and hiding things from me"

"Two days"

"What?"

"In two days you'll have your answers and you'll know what I've been doing" concluded Sherlock, walking over to plant a kiss on his partner's lips by way of proper greeting

"I'm still annoyed at you Sherlock"

"Two days"

"That doesn't help"

"It's to do with me coming back, Moriarty"

"What? and if you just say two days I will slap you"

"In two days all will be clear" with that John scowled at Sherlock

"What will be?"

"I think I've managed to clear my name, please just agree to wait two days to make sure it's successful"

"Of course" the blogger agreed "If you'd have just told me that I would have left you to it and not had to phone Mycroft out of panic"

"You panicked about me?"

"Sherlock...I...love you, I'm allowed to worry about you"

"You...love me?"

"Yes, and I'm going to regret saying that but I do"

"You won't regret saying it" replied Sherlock, again moving to kiss his partner. John kissed him back, building up the intensity. He guessed that was as close as he would get to I love you from Sherlock Holmes but he was happy with that.

**Two days later**

The day of Sherlock's reveal to the public was upon them, and John was still in the dark about how exactly the former consulting detective had cleared his name but he was looking forward to finally finding out and perhaps being able to spend some proper time with Sherlock, perhaps even get back onto the cases he missed so much.

As it transpired, John didn't have to look far for his answers when the morning of the reveal came around. He left Sherlock's bed to make them both a cup of tea and shuffled towards the door in his slippers and dressing down to collect the papers. There on the front page of the five different papers Sherlock had delivered to Baker Street every single morning were variations on the headline "Genius alive" or "Sherlock returns", with his papers under his arms and two cups of English Breakfast tea John returned and slid into bed beside Sherlock, deciding that perhaps he could hear the story from the horse's mouth instead of reading it from any of the papers now strewn around the bed.

Sherlock began to speak, his speech slow and measured

"Mycroft helped me stay under the radar, he also helped me find evidence that Richard Brook was not a real person but a character invented by Moriarty to discredit me. It was not easy, even I will acknowledge that Moriarty was good. It turns out Richard Brook was a victim of Moriarty's and he'd used the identity to make it as difficult as possible to officially prove Brook was the character not Moriarty. The facade was nearly complete, he was able to fool almost everyone accept for a few people that had known Richard Brook. He had killed most of them, but there were two people remaining who were able to look at video from CTTV footage of Brook and confirm that this was not him. Most importantly, Mycroft was able to dig deep into government records and break several laws to find out where Brook's post mortem was performed, they had added his DNA to their data base because he was an organ donor. Moriarty may have thought he'd seen to the records but Mycroft is also pretty good when he has my help. I'd kept a sample of the real Moriarty's hair from his jacket just in case I ever needed it and a simple test was able to confirm they were not the same person."

"But hang on, why didn't these people who knew Richard Brook speak out before?" asked John

"They just presumed it was another actor named Richard Brook, it happens" replied Sherlock

"How do you know you got the right Richard Brook?"

"In the website and all other online content with pictures and information about Richard Brook the character there were minute traces of editing Mycroft's people were able to use to unravel all of it to show the real Richard Brook"

"So you're clear?"

"Completely"

"What about Moriarty's people?"

"He's dead, nobody, even his people, are as good as he was"

"So you might be asked to consult cases again?"

"Yes and good thing too, I was starting to get bored of being stuck in Baker Street"

with a disapproving scowl that eventually became a smile John replied "the game is on"

**AN** - I thought you all might need this to help recover from the news that S3E3 could be His Last Bow. I'm remaining hopeful until it's officially confirmed.

I hope this chapter fits in with the story, I wanted to get Sherlock out and alive in public so he and John can do stuff together. I hope what Sherlock found make sense, it does to me but if not please let me know D:

As ever, if you liked it or hated it please review and subscribe/favourite if you really liked it.


	8. Chapter 7 - Scotland Yard

**Chapter 7 - Scotland Yard**

All across London and indeed the UK people were beginning to wake up to the newspapers on their doorstep, the news of Sherlock's return was beginning to break as John and Sherlock moved to the living room and turned on the television. They sat flicking through various news channels catching the odd mention of the ex-consulting detective's return from beyond the grave. As with the various newspaper articles the actual facts were scant but the televised reports covered all the important details; that the genius was not dead, he was in fact not a fraud and he had proved this by outing Richard Brook as a character rather than an actor hired to play a master criminal.

It was mid-morning when the landline of Baker Street rung, John out of instinct answered it despite the fact his partner was nearer.

"Hello"

"Yeah, hello John this is Lestrade"

"Um, Hi"

"Can I speak to him?"

"Sure"

"It's Lestrade, he says he wants to speak to you"

Sherlock thought back to when he was standing on the roof of St Barts, how Lestrade was one of the three people in the world Moriarty used to convince him to jump off the roof. The man on the other end of the phone, although not in a thousand years would Sherlock ever admit it to anyone, was one of the three most important people in the world to him and one of the three people he would ever consider committing suicide to save. He had been waiting for this call for months, although he was not expecting to be welcomed back with open arms as a consulting detective he hoped he could at least be given something to occupy his time, maybe an armed robbery or something small to start him off.

"Yes Lestrade" the words stuck in his throat a little

"Can you make it to the office at 2 o'clock today?"

"Where else does a formerly dead ex-consulting detective have to be on a Wednesday afternoon?"

"See you then" and with that the line went dead

John stared at Sherlock for a few seconds, seemingly expecting his partner to give him the details without needing to be asked. Eventually he had to give up

"What did he want?"

"Who?"

"_Lestrade_"

"Of course, sorry I was trying to figure out what he wants myself...it's hard when you can only hear his voice"

"Excuse me?"

"Oh, he wants us to go to his office at two...but I don't know why, He doesn't want our help on a case but he's not angry either"

"So he's not angry that you didn't try and contact him before all this hit the media?"

"No, it's something different"

"Shall we wait until two?"

"I hate waiting but I don't think I can get anything more from just his voice on the other end of a phone"

"Do you want me to cancel the dinner reservation?"

"No, I don't think he needs us tonight"

With that John headed to the kitchen to prepare them both a light lunch of tea and sandwiches, it was not long until they would have to think about getting ready and heading over to Scotland Yard, Sherlock hated being late anywhere, especially when going somewhere he was really desperate to go to he could become like a petulant child if John took even a few seconds "too long" to put on his shoes or brush his hair.

After they had finished eating the pair put on their shoes and jacket before heading towards the door, it didn't take them too long to flag down a cab and within a short drive across central London they were at Scotland Yard. Both men were nervous as they made their way through the building towards Lestrade's office, they were allowed some reprieve in the fact they were not kept waiting long. John showed slightly more outward signs of nervousness, but was still relatively well contained while Sherlock remained completely stoic as they entered Lestrade's office and took their chairs across from him, feeling slightly like naughty school children who had been sent to the headmasters office to be punished.

"So, you're alive then?" Lestrade began

"It would appear so, yes"

"How?"

"It's a long story that I don't need to bore you with"

"Fine, are you fit to work cases again?"

Taking all his effort not to leap straight out of his seat with excitement Sherlock replied with a simple "Yes"

"We don't need you right now, but we could probably use your help in the future"

"There must be something more, you wouldn't have asked me here just to say you would consider having me on cases in the future"

"I would and I have, I wanted to see you myself and let the team see you"

"Even Anderson?"

"Even Anderson"

I was with barely disguised disgust that Sherlock left Lestrade's office to say hello to the rest of his former (or was that now current?) team. It seemed as though Lestrade had planned this well, considering the short notice he'd had about it and the fact he'd even got Molly in. Sherlock shook Donavan's hand and moved on as quickly as he could, he barely paused for a sarcastic comment in Anderson's direction before moving on to Molly. Sherlock made a show of acting happy to see her and even gave her a quick hug before looking pleadingly in Lestrade's direction.

"Okay, Sherlock you can go"

"Do you not even have an armed robbery or something for me to work on?"

"Come on Sherlock you know that's not our division"

Sherlock sighed and walked out followed closely by John, both were relieved Sherlock had been allowed to consult again. They talked of little else on the way back to the apartment they shared together on Baker Street. They had a while to kill before their date later that evening so they decided to pass the time by putting on the television quietly in the background and sitting around talking to each other over it. Before long talk wandered to their date this evening, it was officially their first proper date and both men were looking forward to it to say the least.

The last few days had been hectic and it would be lovely for the pair to have some alone time to really just sit and enjoy each other's company and the fact they were finally a couple. Sherlock could see the excitement in John's face, the way he held himself, the smile on his face and the way he talked. It was absolutely endearing and Sherlock leaned over to press a gentle kiss to his partners lips. John responded and before long they were lying on top of each other on the sofa kissing passionately, their hands exploring their partners chests while their tongues explored each other's mouths. They were totally lost in the sensation of each other when Mrs Hudson chose that exact moment to come through the door, she stood in silence for a few seconds before simply clapping a little and beaming "See, I told you boy's you would only need the one room"

**A/N** - Eugh I really hate this chapter but I needed to have Sherlock back at Scotland Yard to keep things moving on

As ever read, review, sign up for updates and share the link - I'll send you a million hypothetical pizzas. ~LoonyforLupin


	9. Chapter 8 - The Date

Chapter 8 - The Date

Although it was not in the nature of either John or Sherlock to be vain they both decided to try and look their best for the date later that Wednesday evening. They both spent slightly longer than usual showering, shaving and brushing their hair, and both dressed up for the occasion wearing suits and ties. They had booked a table at one of the more upscale places in town, the sort of place that always claimed to have reinvented a dish and served fois gras burgers for thirty pounds. It wasn't a place that either of them would have usually picked but they wanted somewhere special for their first date.

They had spent a while online looking through London restaurant menus before deciding on this place on the basis they would at least like one thing on the menu and it had received very good reviews. When they arrived just before their 8 o'clock reservation they were very disappointed with what they found. The interior was all granite and Perspex, which gave the whole restaurant a dark and clinical feel, everywhere was so sleek and polished it felt unwelcoming to the core. John rubbed his arm nervously as they were guided to their table, the suit was uncomfortable and this wasn't the sort of place he was really happy or comfortable being in. Sherlock was not much more at ease, although he found the suit more bearable than his counterpart because he wore his with more frequency he too found the interior less than hospitable.

As they moved to the table and took their seats it was not long before they began to find the atmosphere terribly cloying. The waiting staff were pretentious and rude with little time for the patrons that paid their wages, the music slightly too loud to permit good conversation flow and the food when it arrived was rather more about style than substance, such effort had been made to make the meal look like a masterpiece on a plate that the chef seemed to have forgotten about taste. Although enjoying each other's company as best they could in the disappointing environment both John and Sherlock would admit they were unhappy that this would be how they were to remember their first date.

It was another twenty minutes before the ex-army doctor finally decided he'd had enough and took matters into his own hands. Leaving enough money to cover the bill and a near non-existent tip that was generous considering their experience and the fact both had left nearly their whole meal on their plates John led his boyfriend out of the restaurant and got them a cab.

"What are you doing?" a rather confused Sherlock asked

"This isn't really how I want to remember our first date, Sherlock"

"How do you mean?"

"With us all over dressed at some fancy restaurant that neither of us were really enjoying"

"It was horrible wasn't it?"

"Yes, oh yes"

"So what do you have in mind?"

"Baker Street, me, you and we order in?"

"See, I should leave this sort of thing to you...you're so much better at it than me John"

"Is that Sherlock Holmes admitting he's not best at something?"

"I know when I'm beaten"

"Don't be silly, we both picked this place this is on both of us"

They sat hand in hand on the brief cab ride home, Sherlock was really surprising John as a boyfriend he was not nearly has mechanic or emotionless at he might have expected back then the idea of them together first crossed his mind. He really was human, extraordinary but human none the less and one of, if not the best human John had ever found. He squeezed his partners hand just a little bit tighter at this realisation.

It was not long before they pulled up outside their black front door and crossed the threshold back into their apartment, the apartment with comfy chairs and suitable lighting that was not full of pretentious snobs trying to be what they were not. John took his jacket off and threw his tie on the floor straight away while Sherlock stretched out on the sofa, both sighing in content to be back in the place they called home.

"What shall we get?" Sherlock asked

"Pizza?"

"As good as anything else"

John went and changed into a jumper and some slacks while Sherlock ordered the pizza, by the time he came back to the sitting room Sherlock had found some American TV crime show and was shouting angrily at the beefy, handsome and perma-tan man on the screen

"No, he is clearly not the murder you imbecile how you ever got to work for the FBI is beyond me"

John curled up beside him and warned his boyfriend not to spoil the ending of the episode

"It's obvious but fine"

Around a quarter of an hour later their order of pizza had arrived at the door, John went and collected the order and brought plates from the kitchen. They sat on their sofa watching terrible crime shows and making fun of the ham-fisted acting while eating pizza and drinking from mugs of tea and curled up late into the evening enjoying each other's company. The pizza was warm, soft and covered with tangy tomato sauce and tasty if slightly greasy pepperoni and the tea hit all the right spots, despite the fact it was an order from a takeaway just around the corner it was so much better than the food they had been served at the restaurant. After all the food was gone they just laid on the sofa under their blanket and Sherlock surprised John again by wrapping his arms around him and pulling him towards him. John responded with a kiss which was met with an enthusiastic response from his boyfriend and for the second time that day they ended up laying on the sofa kissing and running their hands over each other's bodies.

**Next morning**

John woke up in Sherlock's bed, his boyfriend was laying with his arms wrapped around him and his head nuzzled into his chest.

This is exactly how I wanted to remember our first date John thought, and Sherlock would agree when he woke up a few minutes later.


	10. Chapter 9 - First Case

**Chapter 9 - First case**

Two weeks later Sherlock had taken to pacing around the apartment out ofboredom and frustration. He sat sprawled out across his armchair in his dressing gown and slippers, his Browning pointed at the wall. He fired once, twice, for a third time the gun fired straight into the wall and the bullets shattered into thousands of pieces on the floor.

"Bored" he declared to John

"I can see" said the blogger from behind his morning paper, the gun firing not exactly something that fazed him after living with Sherlock for so long. The genius was prone to long bouts of boredom when new cases weren't frequent.

"I really hate it when the criminal classes don't get their act together"

"You do realise you are literally sitting around waiting for somebody to get killed?"

"I thought you would have made peace with that a long time ago"

The rest of the morning passed in a similar manner, both Sherlock and John sat and watched TV, drunk tea and John listened while Sherlock played his violin. John was now working occasional shifts at the local doctor's surgery to help bring a little money in for them both, so some of his time was filled.

Sherlock however spent day after day with only his violin, books, TV and the internet for entertainment and after two weeks had descended almost to the depths of madness. He craved a case, the chase, the game...truth be told he was actually going to miss Moriarty, he was so skilled at keeping him occupied. He had been certifiably mad and quite possibly the most dangerous person he would ever meet but he had known how to play the game and if he wasn't so persistent at threatening all the people Sherlock cared about in the world he would happily have him back.

As luck would have it, not two hours later that day the phone rang. Sherlock looked at it for a few seconds before picking it up

"Sherlock" he answered

"I have a case for you, get yourself and Watson to Harrow Road near Westbourne Bridge ASAP, you'll see us"

Barely restraining his glee Sherlock put down the phone and instructed his blogger to get ready, the game it seemed was now well and truly back on.

After taking a cab to the aforementioned location it took only a few minutes on foot to find the building Lestrade had mentioned, there being police cars and crime scene tape.

"Oh good, you guys made it" called Lestrade

"How fresh?"

"Four hours"

"Cause of death?"

"You'll see"

The three men walked through the building to a small side room, Lestrade opened the door and let Sherlock and John through to the body. There was a large knife sticking out of the back of the blood stained corpse

"That'll do it" said John

Then Sherlock began

"female, late thirties by the looks of it probable cause of death a single stab wound to the back although we'll have to wait for the autopsy to know for certain - as much as it pains me to say this I need Anderson"

"You need me?" came the reply from a snide voice in the doorway

"I presume the knife was dusted for prints?"

"Of course"

"You found nothing?"

"No, how did -"

"Yes thank you for your input Anderson" Sherlock said as he closed the door

Sherlock paced around the body, taking in every minute detail and running gloved fingers over various items, patches and areas of the body.

"She was an office worker, clearly sleeping with the boss but this had only started recently. She worked in a low paid position and was struggling financially. The murderer knew her personally and the attack was premeditated, they were wearing some kind glove and had the knife with them when he came to the location - the boss tired of her and killed her or had her killed perhaps" he said as he absentmindedly looked through her bag and purse

"Oh don't you both look at me like that it's obvious" Sherlock said upon noticing the open-jawed gazes from both Watson and Lestrade

"She is wearing formal office attire, but it's cheap and at least two years old. Her skirt has been hemmed multiple times and her shoes are much worn on the bottom but the heels have been repaired and the leather polished. She's trying to keep up appearances but can't afford posh clothes for work. She has a wedding, engagement and eternity ring which indicate she's been married a long time, but they're cheap jewellery even the eternity ring indicating her spouse also works in a low paid position. Then how do you explain the very expensive bracelet on her wrist that's brand new and the full bottle of posh perfume that's in her bag?"

Sherlock was looking at something on the woman's phone

"As I thought, she was sleeping with her boss but was having second thoughts judging by the increased frequency with which she as turning down opportunities to meet. She worked in an office down the road and they had agreed to meet at the coffee shop next door to discuss their relationship, it seemed like she was going to end it"

"So what she threatens to leave and so lover boy brings her here and kills her?" asked Lestrade

"No, it's not that. She wasn't overt in suggesting leaving in her texts, not something most people would notice particularly if he didn't want to notice it. It seemed like he had feelings for her. He had no idea she was going to leave so he would not have brought the knife for that reason; it has to be something else"

After a few minutes of searching through the woman's bag he found what he was looking for, a memory stick with 16GB of storage that would not have been trusted to a woman who, according to a letter in her bag, worked as a low ranked administrative assistant.

"Here. Look at what's on this, there is probably some sensitive information she had got hold of so her boss decided she was a sufficient enough threat to die. Visit his house immediately he might still have traces of blood on him if he did it"

**Two days later**

Sherlock and John were sat at their favourite table in their favourite restaurant eating their favourite meal as they usually did at the end of cases, they would talk about the case in their secluded private booth as a way of clearing the air and getting the more stressful cases out of their system.

"It was the boss" said Sherlock "they got to his apartment found his blood soaked shirt"

"Was there anything on the pen drive?"

"Plans for this big corporate merger, it seems like our victim was planning to blackmail her lover with the threat of releasing the details to the press if he didn't give her a large amount of money"

"So the bracelet and perfume?"

"Gifts for herself with the money, they had been sleeping together but not long enough to warrant gifts of such a high value"

"But long enough for him to have feelings for her?"

"Even I can't explain the human heart" said Sherlock, displaying his usual tact and humility. This earned another disapproving scowl from his partner, who moved forward his hand by way of an offer. Sherlock took the hand in his own and they sat hand in hand late into the night in the candlelight.

**A/N **– Sorry this one took a little longer to write, I've been super busy with work lately so the chapters might be a little less frequent than daily.

I hope you liked this chapter, as ever reviews and feedback are very important to me. I want this to be good ~LoonyForLupin


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